


An Unusual Wakeup Call

by Mamaforgiveme



Category: The Big O
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-10
Updated: 2019-03-10
Packaged: 2019-11-15 01:21:19
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,600
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18063869
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mamaforgiveme/pseuds/Mamaforgiveme
Summary: Roger is left disoriented after the rebirth of Paradigm city. Dorothy takes it upon herself to rouse the lazy negotiator from his funk in a more explorative way then usual. Together they will attempt to answer the question burning on Dorothy's mechanical mind "Can an android and a human truly understand one another?"





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is a very realistic depiction of how a Roger/Dorothy pairing may pan out in regards to an androids physical limitations.

Roger Smith stared at an object resting on the nightstand next to his bed. The morning light radiated through the windows of his bedroom with its usual gray and melancholy glow. At first glance nothing seemed out of place, but the longer Roger stared at the face of his wristwatch leaning against the lamp on his nightstand, the more he felt the unnerving sensation that something had been taken from him.

His wristwatch was no mere fashion accessory. Though it had all the glitz and glamour in its construction to satisfy all but the most pretentious of Paradigm socialites, that was but its very surface. Inside the clockwork marvel was a grappling hook, a small cutting laser, a radio and a long range remote control for the even greater mechanical masterpiece in his garage, The Griffin.

Though The Griffin was an automobile without equal, with gadgets and armaments abound, it wasn't the machine that held Roger’s thoughts captive. He reached out from the side of his over sized bed and snatched his watch from its resting spot. His fingers moved with groggy clumsiness as he rotated the watch in front of him. He stared into the face of the wristwatch, at the white inner circles inside a larger golden circle, until a memory resurfaced in his mind. “Big O…” Roger muttered.

Memories were a tricky thing to comprehend in Paradigm city. Though he could see in his mind’s eye, a massive black golem of metal machinery, he had know way of determining what the images meant. Such a machine, that made all the gadgets in his possession pale in comparison, quite simply did not exist.

While Paradigm city had began to uncover the secrets and technologies from the scraps of memories they could cobble together, they had only scratched the surface of the past. There were no giant robots walking in the streets. The city wasn't in a constant threat of being torn down by mechanical monsters that erupted from underground. The memory resurfacing was unlike anything he had ever experienced. Yet there it was, running rampant through his mind.

The negotiator put his watch back on his nightstand before rolling onto his back to stare up at the ceiling. He knew his mind would not allow him to put down the jumbled memories in his head, so he was content to use the tranquil quiet to try and piece them together.

It wasn't unusual to hear of people losing their memories in the city of amnesia. Many of his clients and would-be clients had come to him with wild claims that they had lost their recent memories, that just like 40 years ago some mysterious force had plucked them out and carried them away.

Of course, a vast majority of the time it was utter nonsense. Human beings are forgetful by nature. All memories were destined to decay and perish over time. Sometimes they would age like fine wine, with the nonessential details falling away one after the other. Other times they tarnished, the faces of loved ones and moments of significance warping and rotting away, leaving the bearer of the memories bitter and often paranoid. That was the case a vast majority of the time from Roger’s experience, paranoid clients who wanted a greater reason for why they cant remember as well as they once could.

“Only with my case… it wasn't just my memories that’s changed.” Roger mumbled towards the ceiling. This morning was the start of Roger’s disoriented memories. It was only yesterday he found himself behind the wheel of The Griffin, as if he had awakened from a dream. He didn't remember how he got there, or where his destination was, so he continued to drive aimlessly throughout the city.

He couldn't quite put it to words, but he had the unnerving feeling that it wasn't just his wristwatch or the lack of a giant robot under his building that had changed. From the random bits of conversation he heard from the passers on the street, or from the banter and murmurs of the patrons of the bars, there was a noticeable lifting of the burden that had been weighing on the people of Paradigm for as long as Roger could remember. For the first time in 40 years everyone seemed to be looking towards the future and not the past. “Then why are you the only one worrying…?” he asked himself.

A wild torrent of oscillating piano strokes rose from under the thick floorboards of his bedroom like a geyser. Roger’s jaw tightened and his body flinched in reaction to the android made hell that assaulted his eardrums. He clenched his eyes shut in defiance. He would not let her break him, not this time. He thrashed to his side, wrapping his head in his pillows to dampen the barrage of notes from penetrating his eardrums. A low energy growl built up in his throat as his counter measures proved as ineffectual as they had in the past.

“Mankind **can** overcome machines…” Roger said, snarling the words from his grit teeth. He knew if the android downstairs would take offense to what he had said. Early in their relationship he commonly made such flippant comments about her lack of humanity. She would never react. Her face would remain as dour and machine like as possible, as if proving his point. Over time though, he began to form a sixth sense of sorts, by deciphering the pauses and long moments of silences that most would see as her usual behavior. It was only then he came to realize a startling truth. He was hurting her feelings.

With every dismissive comment about her inability to understand emotions, and well meaning if not callous instruction on how she might behave more human, the more and more obvious it became. Roger was shocked that an android could even possess feelings, little alone that he had been stamping on them, but the evidence kept piling up. She didn't sit at his dinner table to bring her fork from her plate to her mouth for his benefit. She wouldn't accept tea from wealthy clients only to pretend to take a sip from time to time merely for pleasantries sake. She was trying to fit in. She wanted to be viewed as everyone else.

Right now though, as the tirade of musical notes continued their merciless onslaught, he didn’t care one iota about Dorothy’s feelings. He balled up in the fetal position, as if trying to expel the sound from his body by clenching his muscles. It didn't work. Nothing ever did. The realization of man’s limitations were just about to win out over his legendary stubbornness when something miraculous happened. The music stopped.

Roger did not feel a sense of victory. No rush of relief or triumph either. Instead an impeding dread fell upon him. Dorothy never gave up. It was a test of futility to try and resist her machine patience, and even though he continued to try, he had always known he would be the one to give up in the end.

Paranoia began to shroud Roger’s mind. His fears only grew with every methodical footstep coming up the steps. “What was she planning?” He straightened on the bed and rested on his back, his head neatly placed against his pillow, and his blanket resting just under his chin. If Dorothy had decided to take their struggle to some higher level, he would resist in the only way he could think of. Pretending to be asleep, hoping she would leave him alone.

Even as her footsteps echoed from under his bedroom door, he began to realize the flaw in his plan. His entire defense rested on Dorothy taking pity on him. Dorothy was beyond pity, at least when it came to disturbing his sleeping in. He knew very well that his plans were doomed from the start, but even still, as the door knob to his bedroom began to turn, he held his position. He had no choice, the negotiations were already underway.

# # #

Dorothy stood in the doorway to Roger’s room. Her eyes were locked on the man pretending to be asleep in bed. Roger Smith, the man that she worked for, the man who gave her a place to stay, and her closest companion, all rolled into one. The man was a lot of things to Dorothy. He meant so much to her, that even she did not fully understand the information buzzing around her electronic mind.

Dorothy stepped through the doorway, before closing the door behind her. She kept her eyes straight ahead as she walked, leaving no clues that had she noticed the way Roger flinched and slowed his breathing as she approached the foot of his bed. By the time Dorothy reached out and grabbed Roger’s covers, the frustrating man had already resumed his phony sleeping.

The covers and top sheet flew from Roger’s bed as Dorothy whipped them across the room with a swing of her arm. Her eyes, and the complex machinery inside them whirred softly as she focused on Roger’s form. As daft as it was, Roger maintained his charade. She paused, taking a moment to watch his chest rhythmically rise and fall under his dark gray robe.

Dorothy had long since noted that Roger was very attractive to other humans. His upper body was broad and muscular, yet tapered down in an almost triangular shape to his lean stomach and slender waist. Upon careful examination and study of women’s magazines, she determined that Roger’s body was in the optimal shape for attracting members of the female sex. If his midsection was heavier or bulky like his chest and shoulders, he would appear powerful but clumsy and slow. If his upper body was as lean as his lower half, he would appear less assuming, unable to command the same level of respect and authority from his presence alone.

Roger had great upper body strength (for a mere human) but not at the expense of speed and maneuverability. While Dorothy didn't hold any opinion in terms of physical attraction and body types, she did approve of his build from a purely utilitarian viewpoint... but nothing more. This was the root of Dorothy’s problems. No matter how many moments she shared with the man, or how many complicated feelings Roger invoked from her, she was still an android, and that would never change.

More data began to flood Dorothy’s mind. Data of the most complicated sort. Human emotions. Whenever she felt such alien feelings, she generally found herself unsure of what to do with the information flooding her data banks. She had to reverse engineer the emotions she witnessed from human interactions, and theorize if the emotions being crunched by her central processor were similar enough to be a match. No human, Roger especially, would ever understand the complexity a simple feeling could be for an android.

An idea sprang forth from Dorothy’s mechanical mind with a spark of static electricity, ruffling the thin metallic strands that made up her hair. She reached forward and grabbed one of the lapels of Roger’s robe. Her joints clicked and whirred as she lifted the front of his robes, undoing the simple knot holding lapels together with friction alone.

Dorothy discarded the more logical conclusion that she was going to cause a scene. While she lacked obvious human emotions, her android mind could still feel what humans would consider embarrassment. The android equivalent of embarrassment far surpassed humanities version of it, by Dorothy’s estimations at least. There was nothing more repulsive to an android then the risk of causing the status quo to collapse around them.

Even still, Dorothy had already initiated her plan and Roger’s muscular torso was already laid bare before her. She stared intently at the man’s physique, as taut and toned as ever, since the sudden exposure had caused his entire body to tense. She did not angle her optics to look at Roger’s face. She didn't need any data that would distract her from her current task.

While Dorothy the android felt little being so close to a bare chested man, Dorothy the human would have most likely felt entirely different given the same circumstances. It wasn't just Dorothy’s android data pooled inside her mechanical mind. The late Dorothy Wayneright had been brilliantly translated and coded within her. She searched for emerging human emotions as she zoomed her optics onto Roger’s chest.

No human emotions were found. Dorothy was disappointed, but not surprised. She had only ever felt the late girls memories when in close proximity of one man and one man only, Timothy Wayneright. He was more then the benefactor whose memories aided her construction. He was her father, at least he was the father of the girl’s mind implanted within her.

Acting as Mr. Wayneright’s daughter had been virtually effortless for Dorothy. As soon as the old man’s arms wrapped around her, the late Dorothy Wayneright emerged in her place, like some mode in her system took over all operations. Without any real understanding from her android mind, Dorothy the sweet, shy and loving daughter acted and reacted to her father’s dotting as if she had always been there. It was the first and final time either Dorothy's existence had clear purpose.

That purpose ended with a single shot from a gun. When the bullet that would claim Mr. Wayneright’s life entered his body, Dorothy’s human memories fragmented and scattered to the deep corners of her mind. She lost more then a father that night, she last the very reason of her existence, doomed to wait until some person or group used her body for some vile purpose or another.

Only, that's not what happened. Roger had given her an alternative by merely suggesting she found her own path in life, or “Just be you.” as he put it. It most likely meant little to the negotiator at the time. He had no way of predicting she would come to serve as his caretaker and assistant in order to pay her debt to him. It didn't matter if it meant little to Roger, it had meant a lot to her.

Dorothy’s mechanical mind buzzed with the affirmation for her current course of action. She further opened Roger’s robes with a flick of her fingers, fully exposing his bare skin to the cool morning air. A sharp breath was sucked between the negotiator’s teeth, as Dorothy’s cold android fingers pressed against his warm flesh.  
While her titanium alloy skeleton was hard and unyielding, the synthetic flesh surrounding it was quite soft and supple. While unable to generate much in the way of heat, she had been told the softness of her touch was fairly pleasant. She hoped she had been told correctly for her and Roger’s sake.

Roger shifted uncomfortably, clearly not enjoying the android fingertips against his lower pecks. Dorothy continued to focus her optics on her actions, unwilling to see what kind of look the man was giving her.

As Dorothy predicted, Roger’s body began to relax as his body heat warmed the surface of her synthetic fingertips. She dragged her fingers over the contours of his muscles with slow methodical movements. After some initial squirms and twitches, Roger surrendered the last of his reservation to her with a small sighing breath.

Dorothy had estimated Roger would have said something by now, either to rebuke or affirm her efforts. With a click and a whir, her head turned on its pivot to face the negotiator. If Roger’s eyes had opened since she began touching him, he had since closed them again. His eyelids occasionally fluttered as he breathed through his partly opened lips, apparently enjoying her caresses.

Dorothy kept her eyes locked on Roger’s serene looking face, as her soft but cool fingertips ran down his rippling abdomen. He lifted his head back a few degrees and his breath escaped his lips with a slight shudder. As she kept her focus intently locked on Roger’s blissful expressions, she continued to drag her fingertips up and down his toned stomach.

It was then her little finger bumped into something firm. As Dorothy’s head clicked and whirred to turn and see what it was her fingers had found, Roger’s hand sprang into motion. She sensed his hand fly to her wrist and clamp his fingers tightly around her. “D-dorothy?” Roger exclaimed. Dorothy turned her head back around, and leveled her optics on Roger’s flushed and bewildered face. It was then she realized what it was she was touching.

Driven by curiosity, her little finger snaked underneath the waist of Roger’s pajama trousers. Her fingers shifted and ran across the large mushy head of Roger's member and down its smooth shaft. Roger’s fingers tightened their grip. “Dorothy!?” Roger repeated, this time with a similar tone she had heard before, one that was usually followed with a lecture.

Dorothy kept her eyes locked onto Roger’s as her brain buzzed for the appropriate response. She realized what she was doing was beyond a simple faux pas, and she was fully aware of the awkward consequences in store for her if she did not navigate this social interaction very carefully. Roger’s expression wasn't helping matters either. His looks of shock and bafflement only slowed her processing speed.

“Do you want me to stop?” Her words filed from her gray lips with their usual monotone grace. Roger’s jaw dropped in response to having such a question dropped in his lap. Dorothy waited, her face cold and stern as always, despite the growing uncertainty buzzing around her head.

When Roger didn't answer, Dorothy slid her thumb around the back of his shaft, carefully holding his growing manhood in her mechanical grip. “You're… really doing this?” Roger uttered in disbelief. “Yes. I want to show you how I feel, Roger.” Dorothy answered immediately. She had been prepared for such a question. All this time under his roof, juggling the human and android emotions and teaching herself when and where they were compatible, she had been waiting for an opportunity such as this.

Dorothy began to move her hand up and down the length of his shaft. Roger stared at her, his eyes flickering with emotions to complex for her to decipher. It was remarkable for Dorothy, to see the negotiator so honest. Every time she and Roger seemed to make progress in their relationship, Roger would always slip from any direct question or confession from Dorothy with a casual comment or dismissive joke.

Roger’s hand dropped from her wrist, as her fingers began massaging his member. Each finger took turns curling and squeezing around the hardening shaft in her hand, using his bodies reactions as a guide in wringing the pleasure from him. She watched his face, more intently then ever, as her hand altered the speed and tempo at which they worked. As smooth and confident as he was, he couldn't withhold his expressions as easily as he could his words.

With a surprising level of satisfaction, Dorothy continued to stroke and milk contorted faces and moans from him. With something as simple as a slide of her thumb behind the head of his penis, his body would shiver and shake. Sensing it was a weak spot of his, her thumb continued to move in identical motions, running up and down the spot with increasing speed.

Roger grunted and panted through grit teeth. The difference between pain and pleasure wasn't as wide as Dorothy would have thought, and she began to suspect she was hurting him. Before she reached a conclusion, another groan escaped Roger’s lips, which Dorothy interpreted that he wished her to continue. Every time his body began to relax, getting used to the movements her hand was making, she would alter her speed or finger placement. It didn't take Dorothy long to learn which movements invoked the strongest responses.

Dorothy’s steely gaze remained unwavering on Roger’s face, even when his hand clamped against her shoulder. Dorothy reluctantly turned her gaze from the man’s enraptured expressions, to cast a glance at the palm pressing against her cool android cheek. “Dorothy…” Roger whispered, the third time since she had entered his room. While initially frustrated with her man’s lack of vocabulary, she quickly noticed a warm, glimmer in his eyes.

A realization sparked within Dorothy’s mechanical mind. This was the moment she had been waiting for. Roger’s finger’s wrapped around the back of Dorothy’s neck and pulled her closer to him. Her mechanical parts hummed as she complied, letting him move her face mere inches from his. Dorothy didn't need to be told what to do next.

She closed her eyes and puckered her lips. While she would have preferred to keep her eyes open, to see Roger’s face and movements, she had witnessed so much evidence from magazines, movies and books, that in a proper and romantic moment such as this, a lady was supposed to close her eyes. Roger’s warm, moist lips pressed tightly against her firmer, synthetic ones. Since this was Dorothy’s first kiss, she did her best to match his movements. To her disappointment, she found her android lips were far less flexible and lacked the impressive level of control that her partner implemented. The best she could do was part her lips, as Roger’s warm, slippery tongue slid its way into her mouth.

The sudden invasion caused Dorothy to open her eyes. As if sensing her eyes upon him, Roger opened a single eye for a moment, before closing it again. His tongue gently rubbed and pushed against her own tongue, clearly coaxing her to do something with it. She did her best to preform what she thought he wanted, but Roger quickly broke the kiss and gave a patronizing chuckle.

“What am I doing wrong?” Dorothy demanded, a clear attitude managing to bleed into her monotone voice. Roger gave a little shrug. “You’re just a little stiff.” Roger said. “It is my first time, Roger.” Dorothy replied sharply, her sass even more audible then before. She leaned forward with a whir, nearly knocking her nose against his. “Teach me. I want to get better.” Roger blinked at that. He hesitated a beat before giving a little nod. “Stick out your tongue.” Dorothy quickly obeyed, sliding out her smooth, pale gray tongue as far as it would go. Roger at the nerve to chuckle at her, before continuing. “Alright, do as I do.” He instructed. Dorothy nodded, keeping her tongue extended.

Roger placed the tip of his tongue against Dorothy’s. She couldn't help but recognize her mouth’s inferiority while trying to match his actions. His complicated muscle was capable of such complex movements. It took all of her processing power to mimic it’s forceful actions. Roger leaned forward, connected their lips in another kiss. Dorothy was initially relived to be given a more passive task, but quickly realized he was continuing to move his tongue in a circular swirling motion, so she followed suit. After a minute of struggling, she learned how to move her clumsier slab of flesh in more and more efficient ways, and was eventually able to mirror his movements in the delicate dance within their mouths.

The wet sounds of their kissing dripped into Dorothy’s audio sensors. It didn’t take her long to come to the conclusion that she enjoyed kissing. What more, she found it oddly pleasing, the way Roger’s mucus and saliva filled tongue made the insides of her sterile mouth. She wondered if a layer of his spit made her mouth seem like his; a warm, living orifice.

Dorothy continued their kiss, focusing solely on the movements of her mouth. Her hand she kept on autopilot, allowing its fingers to move in a looping pattern to reserve her processing power. It wasn't until Roger’s occasional moans turned to labored grunting, that she realized the man underneath her kiss was struggling to breathe. In her eagerness to please she had applied to much force, and had been pinning him to his pillow, leaving him unable to draw a proper breath.

Dorothy broke the kiss by standing up straight with a quick series of mechanical buzzes and whirs from her back and neck. Roger was able let out a single gasp of relief before her hand’s continued to shaft his member with increased focus. “Dorothy… you’re going all in on this…” Roger muttered in between pants. “Of course, Roger. As I said, I’m showing you how I feel.” Dorothy found it frustrating that she had to repeat the sentiment. “How you… feel.” Roger murmured.

Dorothy’s mechanical mind buzzed with frustration. “Do you still think that I cannot feel? How could you? After all we’ve been through, you should know more then anyone.” Roger’s eyes widened as the barrage of monotone words with a drip of hostility marched from her mechanical lips. He shook his head but offered no verbal response, seemingly at a loss for words.

Dorothy removed her hand and let it drop to her side. With a turn of her heels, she began to walk away from Roger’s bed. The man recovered from his stunned state and quickly sat up, lunging toward the foot of his bed to catch Dorothy’s hand as she walked past. She stopped, deciding it would be better to hear the frustrating man out, rather then concede to her failure.

“I know you can feel. I’ve known for some time now.” Dorothy’s head whirred softly as it swiveled to the side to face Roger. “Then why Roger? Why haven't you said something sooner?” Roger opened his mouth to answer, but again found himself struggling to find the words. “Do you enjoy tormenting me?” Dorothy asked. Roger groaned in aggravation. “It’s… difficult for me to…” “To what, Roger?” “To imagine… how something like this…” “Like what, Roger?”

Roger closed his eyes and sighed in frustration. “How something like this could work. I’m a man and…” He winced as if he had stepped on a nail. Dorothy understood. “It’s ok to say it. I’m a machine.” Roger bristled at Dorothy’s words. “Don't say it like that…” “But its true, isn't it? Androids are just machines built by humans.” “Dorothy…” “It doesn't matter how well we are built, we will always have android emotions and machine thoughts.”

Dorothy pulled her hand from Roger’s grip, powering through his feeble human attempts to keep her within his grasp. She stepped away from the bed, out of arm’s reach. “I didn't think it could work, not really.” Roger sat at the foot of his bed, staring at her with an expression she could not read. “I…” he mumbled. “I only wanted to see how well I could preform like a real woman.” “I want it to work.” Roger said.

Dorothy straightened and turned her torso with an unnatural twist, keeping her head facing Roger as her body rotated around it. “But how could it? You are an incorrigible bachelor with a fondness for immoral women and alcohol.” Dorothy stated. “That’s kind of harsh, don't you think?” “You are also impulsive and say careless things without thinking.” Dorothy added. Roger shook his head. “That may be, but I’m not being impulsive, not this time.” “What do you mean?”

Dorothy’s optics zoomed in on Roger’s face as she waited for him to elaborate. “I’ve thought about this for a long time now…” Dorothy stepped forward with a loud clack, causing Roger flinch with a start. “And you didn't tell me? So its true. You really do enjoy tormenting me.” “H-hey thats not fair! Its not like I have a lot of experience asking out androids!” Roger quipped defensively.

“Its not like I have experience asking out humans either. Was this your plan, Roger Smith, to make me do all the dirty work so you wouldn't have to?” Roger couldn't help but smirk after hearing his full name used like some kind of curse word. “It wasn't planned, but… I’m glad it happened. Especially how you handled the dirty work…” “That’s not what I meant and you know it.” Dorothy responded, a bit quicker then usual. “So androids do get flustered. That’s good to know…”

Dorothy stared at Roger, taking a long time (even by her standards) to respond. “You really are a louse, Roger Smith.”

 

 


	2. Chapter 2

Roger was surprised how docile Dorothy was behaving. After all, he had never seen her so clearly upset then he had just a few moments ago. Yet here she was, allowing him to place her down on her hands and knees. She raised her stern gaze to meet Roger’s as he knelt against the thick rug they had relocated too. “Are you sure about this, Dorothy?” “Yes. Use my body as you see fit, Roger.”

Roger still couldn't believe those words left his Dorothy’s lips. Dorothy’s eyes glanced down at the growing bulge in Roger’s pajama bottoms. “Does that excite you?” “H-huh?” “The thought of using me to fulfill your carnal desires?” Roger couldn't deny the ticking in his member, at all the naughty but factual things filing out of the usually innocent Dorothy’s mouth.

“Where did you learn your pillow talk, young lady?” Roger mused. “I am unfamiliar with that expression. Regardless, I am only stating the obvious.” Dorothy’s eyes dragged up from the bulge in his sleepwear, to glance up at him. “Roger, you’re hesitating.” “What? No I’m not…” “Are you afraid of damaging me? Even with the increased size of your genitalia, any damage I may receive shouldn't be difficult for Norman to repair.”

The thought of having to explain to his butler why he had to repair Dorothy’s body sent a chill through Roger’s body. “It got smaller.” Dorothy said. “Thanks for the update…” Roger muttered, sliding down his pajama bottoms and fully revealing his swollen manhood.

“You’re welcome, Rog-” Dorothy’s sentence was interrupted when head of Roger’s member pressed against her lips. She immediately opened her mouth as wide as she could to receive him. Shaking off the thought of how powerful the android’s mechanical parts were, Roger pressed his hips forward, sliding the head of his penis past her awaiting mouth.

It was a tight fit. The mechanisms in Dorothy’s mandibles strained to widen her mouth as Roger slid himself further inside of her. His blood engorged head and shaft stretched the smooth synthetic flesh of her mouth. He let out a throaty breath as the smooth material squeezed and clung to his manhood. While Roger doubted the late Mr. Wayneright designed Dorothy’s mouth for taking a man’s erect cock, he was surprised to find the sensations as pleasurable as they were alien.

He buried his member inside of Dorothy, all the way down to its base, firmly placing his pelvis against the android’s face. It was then he felt a strange, slippery substance lining the walls of her throat. Whether it was some translucent oil, or some other machine lubricant, it allowed him to glide in and out of the tight fitting mouth and throat with relative ease. Roger’s hips eagerly took advantage of this, and pumped his rod like a greased piston, pounding himself inside of Dorothy again and again.

Roger’s precum mixed with the colorless lubricant, as he placed his hand on top of Dorothy’s head for balance and increased the speed of his thrusts. He glanced down at Dorothy’s face. Her eyes were crossed, intently focused on the length of his manhood penetrating and stretching the flesh of her throat. Her eyes uncrossed themselves as she looked up to meet his gaze. Though he couldn't see any discernible emotions from her usual, stony gaze, he could somehow feel the affection from the android woman. As if to confirm this notion, one of Dorthy's hands, placed themselves against the small of his back, aiding in his thrusts.

Roger savored the feeling of the pleasure pooling within him before letting it erupt in a white hot spurt. The flood of semen rushed down the back of Dorothy’s throat and began flooding over the corners of her gray lips. Using the hand pressed against Roger’s backside as leverage, the android was careful to catch any running fluids that dripped from her mouth. With precision and care only an android could preform in her current situation, she easily held Roger’s cum, without spilling a single drop on the expensive rug underneath them.

Roger groaned as he slowly pulled his slimy member from Dorothy’s mouth, and returned it behind his trousers. Ever the conscientious one, Dorothy kept a hand over her chin and mouth, holding back the white rapids bulging her behind her cheeks. Roger suppressed the urge to chuckle at the face she was making, and instead focused on the flood of endorphins and hormones flooding his brain.

Dorothy rose to her feet with a loud series of mechanical noises. Roger watched as she walked towards an end table and removed a vase full of flowers. She quickly removed the flowers and tilted her head down towards the water in the vase, letting Roger’s fluids run down her mouth in lewd gush, followed by a slow but steady stream. When she was finished she placed the flowers back inside the cloudy water and set them and the vase neatly on the table where she found them.

Roger collapsed back onto his oversized bed and let out a dreamy sigh. Dorothy was standing just besides him, facing him. He scooted his body across his silk sheets and gave them a playful pat. “I know its past twelve, but since this was somewhat of a special occasion, why don't you join me for a bit?” Dorothy remained completely motionless, with her hands clasped in front of her.

He waited for her to respond, before remembering the surprising weight Dorothy’s compact android body contained. If he had to guess, he’d say the little lady was resting well between four and five hundred pounds. He chuckled at the thought of stern, seemingly emotionless Dorothy, being sullen about admitting his bed might not be able to handle her weight. “You’re still a woman, aren't you?” Roger mused. “Roger?” “Nothing…” Roger said with a chuckle.

Roger found it difficult to bask in the afterglow of his release, with Dorothy continuing to loom over him at the side of the bed. “Um… Dorothy?” He asked, casting the lady android a questioning look. “Do you love me?” Dorothy responded. “Eh!” He coughed and cleared his throat. “That’s a bit sudden.”

“Do you love me?” Dorothy repeated, keeping her stern gaze locked onto his. Roger shifted uncomfortably under her steely gaze. “Well… you see Dorothy…” “If we love one another, what we did would not be scandalous or immoral.” Roger placed a hand to his temples. “What are you going on about, Dorothy…?” he said. “You said so yourself, I’m still a woman.” “Hey, slow on…” “Do you think me an immoral woman, Roger?” Roger sighed. “No Dorothy… I don't.” “Then stop dodging the question.”

Roger laughed. “Are you trying to use logic to trick me into confessing? You’d make quite the negotiator…” “I have no interest in your job, nor do I want to trick you into saying something that isn't true.” Dorothy stated. When Roger didn't respond, Dorothy continued. “I want you to say whats in your heart.” He felt a welling of anxiety in his chest. She had him cornered on every level imaginable. Emotionally, logically, even physically, as she stood over him.

As immature as it was, Roger enjoyed the image of “Roger Smith the Casanova” he even had a special rule about letting young women straight up to meet him, no appointments needed. Though not exactly successful enough to be worthy of the image he tried so hard to embody, the thought of expressing devotion to a machine woman with infinite patience terrified him to no end.

Roger hesitated for what felt like the longest time. He cleared his throat, taking as much time as he could straightening his robe. He could practically feel the stern judgment behind the metallic gaze looking down at him. “Have you ever heard the expression “It goes without saying?” you see Dorothy…”

Dorothy straightened her neck with a whir, so that her head and gaze were lifted to stare straight ahead. Roger winced. Though her expressions remained unchanged, he swore he could feel the disappointment from the mechanical lady. “I no longer think humans are difficult to understand.” Dorothy said. Roger blinked in puzzlement. “You don't…?” Roger couldn't believe what she was saying. He had given her plenty of reasons to feel the contrary.

Dorothy remained silent for what felt like the longest time. She slowly lowered her chin and cast her unfeeling gaze down at him. “It’s you, you’re difficult. The most difficult human I could ever know.” Dorothy stated. Roger smiled smiled despite the situation. “I cant argue with that…” Roger admitted.

The android studied his expressions for awhile before responding. “I’m used to it. I think it’s one of the reasons I fell in love with you.” Roger nearly choked on his own breath. Dorothy waited patiently as he coughed and regained his composure. “Are you alright?” He nodded and cleared his throat. “ _That’s_ your reason?” He exclaimed.

Dorothy gave a slight nod before responding. “I often felt the need to prove you wrong, and I wouldn't have had to work so hard for your approval if you weren't so bull headed.” “So your… affections towards me, stem from the need to prove me wrong?” He found this revelation somehow fitting. Dorothy hesitated. “Only at first. The longer we were together, the more you began treating me like a real woman.”

Roger swore he felt his heart skip a beat. He racked his mind for any conscious effort on his part to treat Dorothy differently. If he was perfectly honest, he first viewed Dorothy’s stay at the manor to be nothing more then a curious oddity at best, and a nuisance at worst. He took a strange delight in teasing the poor android. The more he picked on her, the more determined she seemed to subvert his expectations, and defy her limitations as a machine.

Dorothy interrupted his reflection on the matter, when she began walking away from the side of the bed. Dorothy was halfway to his bedroom door before he managed to gather his senses and called out for her to stop. She stopped and turned halfway around, staring at him expectantly. “Wait, where are you going?” “To help Norman with the housework, of course.” She stated.

Roger knitted his brows. “Alright, but why now? We’re in the middle of a conversation.” Dorothy turned back around, keeping her head still so she looked back at him from over her shoulder. “I told you, I want you to speak from the heart. I have no desire to force you to say something you don't want to.”

"I’m sorry Dorothy…” Roger said, averting his gaze to the floor. “It’s alright. I’ve waited for us to get this close, I can wait awhile longer.” Dorothy stated. Roger was surprised that he couldn't sense a twinge of emotion behind her words. While usually monotone, an occasional bite of sass or a lingering hint of regret was far from uncommon. Only now, with such a heavy sentiment, he could sense no emotion at all.

Roger waited till she reached for the doorknob to exit his room. “R. Dorothy Wayneright.” he said. Dorothy’s movement’s came to an abrupt stop, as if someone had simply switched her legs off. She let her hand drop from the doorknob, and turned around to face him.

Seeing Dorothy’s face caused another pang of anxiety to blossom in Roger’s stomach. Her lips were parted ever so slightly, and her usually cold eyes were a bit wider then usual. While most people would consider such a look no more then mild surprise, it was as expressive as Dorothy got. He pushed down the growing uncertainty and steeled himself.

“I love you.” Roger declared. Some electrical jolt snapped through Dorothy’s head, causing her thin metallic strands of hair to rustle. For a brief moment, a soft smile spread across her lips. It was so delicate and warm, it could only be described as human. As quickly as it appeared, the phenomenon was gone, and Dorothy’s expressions settled back into her usual dour look. “Thank you, Roger. I love you too.” She stated, her voice as monotone as ever.

Roger couldn't help but feel underwhelmed, as the lady android marched towards his armoire. “Now get dressed. Its past one and your still in bed.” Dorothy stated, swinging open the ornate wooden door to his wardrobe.

Roger could almost see the judgment radiating from the android lady, as Dorothy spent an unusually long time studying his (admittedly) redundant wardrobe. “Your sense of fashion really is quite hopeless, Roger.” Dorothy said, letting a twinge of pity seep through her words. Roger ignored her fashion critique and smirked. “That may be… but think of how much we’ve accomplished because I wouldn't get dressed.” “That’s irrelevant.” Dorothy said, picking out one of the several identical black suits from the armoire.

Smith’s smirk grew more devilish as Dorothy approached. “You know... If you were serious about practicing your new “wake up call” I’ll have even less incentive to get out of bed.” Dorothy flung Roger’s suit over his head. “Which is why I wont be waking you up like that again. You’ll have to find another time for our lessons.” Dorothy said, her words leaving her lips a beat faster then usual. Roger pulled the outfit from his head before responding. “Our lessons, huh? Whatever you say, Dorothy…”

He watched the lady android march from his room, before tossing his clothes at the foot of his bed. Alone again with his thoughts, he briefly tried to predict what kind of a future could be in store for a man and his android. He had seen such relationships among the wealthy clients who partook of his services, but even then, with Dorothy working under him, he never thought that it he could become like them, old and gray, attached at the hip to a human shaped machine.

For some reason or another, his thoughts drifted to his loyal caretaker and mechanic. Norman was his most reliable and useful person in his life. Not even Dorothy could match the old man’s steadfast devotion, while asking for virtually nothing in return. As talented and experienced as the old man was, he would not be around forever. It was only a matter of time before his age began to show. When that happened, he would naturally need to rely on Dorothy more and more. Roger imagined the stubbornly faithful butler would continue to serve him, using his android college as a crutch, until he finally breathed his last.

Roger collapsed back on his warm sheets and clasped his hands behind the back of his head. He realized that Dorothy was always going to win in the end. Even if his more selfish and petulant nature gained the upper hand, and he refused to give her the relationship she wanted, she needed only to wait. While the years would march on, Norman would grow older and frailer, and even Roger at his peak would begin to wither over time.

Dorothy on the other hand would remain the same, with the aid of maintenance and replacement parts. She didn't need to compete with other women, she needed only to outlast them. When their beauty faded, and Roger’s sex drive and desires diminished, Dorothy would still be there, waiting to exploit his aversion to commitment. At that point, settling for the faithful android would require no effort on his part. “No matter what I do, you cant lose, can you Dorothy?” He mumbled to himself with a slight smile across his lips.

Roger chuckled and sighed. It wasn't like him to worry about his future, anymore then it was to worry about the past. In the end he would live his life the way he always had, one day at a time, moment by moment. Whatever it was life had in store for them, he would take it in stride.

The rising burst of musical notes caused Roger’s heart to nearly leap from his chest. Dorothy’s heavy piano strokes fired up through the floorboards and once again riddled his eardrums with a bombardment of noise. “R. Dorothy Wayneright…” Roger growled to himself, before snatching his wrinkled outfit from the foot of his bed.

 

# # #

 

Dorothy’s finger’s flew over the piano with inhuman precision. The rapid fast paced melody she played she herself had created for the sole purpose of waking Roger up. She was initially surprised that the man had never realized or praised he for such a creative feat. It was a rarity for even the most advanced of androids to create a work of art on their own, even something as admittedly short as the small musical piece she played. Though Roger would never appreciate her strike of brilliance, she at least got the satisfaction in putting it to use.

Roger slammed open the living room door, looking quite disheveled in a wrinkled and hastily thrown on suit. Dorothy was used to such withering looks from her lazy boss, but he was usually still wearing his sleep attire at this point. Dorothy met his unamused stare and continued to play the rapid tune.

“What?” Dorothy asked, knowing full well the reason of his glare.

 

 


End file.
